"Oh, no!" he murmured, "oh, no! Surely, you know yourself how charming you have grown."
I smiled incredulously. I knew I was improved, but thought it was his affection which transformed a little freshness and colour into so comprehensive a word as charming.
"I wonder you will never believe me," he said, looking half annoyed. "I wonder, what is your real opinion of yourself. I do not mean that conventional opinion of one's own inferiority, or at the best mediocrity which, under penalty of being hunted out from decent society, every civilized individual is bound to profess, but that honest opinion of our merits and defects, by which we judge ourselves in our own hearts. Do you mind answering that question?"
"No, it is not worth minding."
"Then answer it."
"You must question me categorically. I have not a ready-made certificate of my good or bad points, to deliver on such short notice."
"What do you think of Daisy morally?"
"A good sort of girl; has received honest principles; devoutly believes she will never do anything very shocking."
"What of her intellectually?"
"Sensible, not brilliant."